Risk Is a Four-Letter Word

Evernight
Publishing

www.evernightpublishing.com

Copyright(c) 2012 Erin M.
Leaf

ISBN:
978-1-77130-004-9

Cover Artist: Sour
Cherry Designs

Editor:
Natascha
Jaffa

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

WARNING: The
unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is
illegal.
No part of this book may be
used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission,
except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

This is a work of
fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to
actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

DEDICATION

For Jennifer.
You made me truly understand
what it means to be a strong woman.

RISK
IS A FOUR-LETTER WORD

Four-Letter Word, 1

Erin M. Leaf

Copyright (c) 2012

Chapter One

The first time Carrie
Haake
set eyes on the two most gorgeous men in the world, she was cowering in the
ocean, frantically trying to locate her missing bikini top. Okay, actually she
was totally
failing
to find it. The waves rolled around her, smirking at
her misery as she squatted beneath thigh-high surf, collecting sand in the
bottom half of her bathing suit. The top was nowhere to be seen. She frantically
twisted her head back and forth, looking for the bright-red scrap of fabric.
Crap!

"Aunt Carrie! Look! We built a moat!"
one of her nieces cried from the shore.

Carrie hunched down further into the water.
"That's awesome, Gina!
So cool!"

She hoped the girl wouldn't wonder why her
favorite and only aunt wasn't coming to inspect their work. She peered into the
murky water, keeping her hands around her boobs.
Nada.
She glanced at her nieces and nephew ten feet away on shore happily building
their sand castle. Carrie's sister Olivia, the children's mother, snoozed under
the family umbrella, oblivious to the drama happening right in front of her.
Still no sign of her top.
Double crap!

Carrie cursed her sister under her breath. It
was Olivia's fault she'd lost it, anyway. "Take a risk, Carrie,"
Olivia had said. "You never try anything new these days." Bah. Carrie
wanted to smack herself upside the head, but that would require letting go of
the goods.
That would not be cool
,
she thought.
The world does not need to
see your double D's
.

"Is this what you're looking for?" a
deep voice asked.

Carrie startled and jerked her head around,
trying to locate the body that had produced such a lovely sound. Unfortunately
the movement set her left breast free so she ducked even further under the
water, getting a nose full of foam. After she finished coughing she looked up.
Her mouth dropped open.

Standing
before her were two men. Or maybe they were gods. One had curly brown hair
tousled sexily around his face and a tattoo of a hummingbird on his right
wrist. The other had shoulder-length chestnut hair gleaming with gold
highlights. He had no tattoos that she could see, but his pierced nipples were
sexy enough. The man didn't need any more decoration. And hot damn were the two
of them built. Carrie always thought abs like that
were
fake, a result of some good photo editing software and careful lighting, but
clearly she'd been mistaken. Both men sported sleek muscles and a light dusting
of hair on their chests. Both wore baggy swimsuits drooping low on their
abdomens.

Carrie swallowed again, tearing her eyes away
from their naked chests.
Safer to look elsewhere, right?
Wrong. Their thighs, just visible above the waves, were as phenomenal as the
rest of them. They stood close together, comfortable in each other's company.
The dark-haired man dangled her bikini top from his right hand like a wilted
flower. The hummingbird tattooed on his wrist looked disgusted. No nectar
there.

"Miss?
Is this yours?" he asked again.

Carrie cleared her throat. "Um, yeah,
thanks. Where did you find it?" She made no move to get out of the water.
The men made no move to come closer. She wondered if they realized she wasn't
going to be able to simply stand up and take back the top.

"It was floating about twenty feet
out," the other man said. His lovely tenor voice gave Carrie the shivers.

"Thanks for rescuing it." She told
herself to stop staring at his nipples before he noticed her fascination but
every time she looked away her eyes landed on another delicious body part.
Between his piercings and the dark-haired man's unlikely tattoo, she felt like
someone had clocked her on the head.

"We couldn't just leave it there. Someone
might get the wrong idea about this beach," Dark-Haired Man said, a hint
of amusement in his voice.

Carrie narrowed her eyes. Was he being snarky?
The sounds of shrieking children drifted around their little bubble of
awkwardness while Carrie shifted in the water uncomfortably. She was starting
to get cold. Even in July, the
Atlantic Ocean
wasn't what she'd call warm. And this particular beach on the coast of
Maryland
was about as far as you could get from the
topless decadence of
Spain
.

"Can I have my bikini back? Please?" She hoped
one of them would take the hint and come closer so she could snatch the fabric.
She might not be able to preserve her dignity, but she could probably spare the
middle-aged couple wading closer a bit of a shock.

Dark-haired Man smiled. "Sure.
If you tell us your name."
He moved closer.

Carrie pursed her lips. He was bribing her?
Hmph
.
She
supposed it couldn't hurt to tell them. "I'm Carrie.
Nice
to meet you."
She did
not
stick out her hand.

He wrapped the string of her top around his
finger. "I'm Zeke. This is my friend Eric."

Carrie smiled uneasily. The closer they got,
the more amazing their abs looked. "Um, I'm not sure how to get my top
back on without flashing the nice people behind you. Or you." She wondered
if they could tell how much she wanted to touch their delicious muscles. She
hoped not. Under her palms, her nipples tightened.

"Don't worry. Eric and I will help."
He stepped behind her and Carrie nearly panicked. If he touched her, she would
totally lose it. She'd probably throw herself at one or the other and any hope
of getting out of this situation without being completely humiliated would
plummet to zero.

"Oh! Wait, you can just go get my sister!
She's on the beach up there." Carrie pointed with her chin.

"If it's that pretty woman under the
umbrella, she's sleeping. It'll take forever to wake her up and convince her
that Eric and I aren't creepy stalkers." His fingers brushed her shoulder
and she jumped. "Relax. It's okay. I promise this won't hurt a bit."
Zeke crouched behind her.

She could tell he was smiling by the tone of
his voice and it didn't calm her down one bit.
"How do I know you're not a creepy stalker?"
She asked, certain her fair skin had gone pink with embarrassment, despite the
cold surf. She almost bolted, modesty
be
damned, when
her bikini top landed in the water in front of her, the top ties held over her
shoulders by Zeke. The bottom half wiggled gently in the ocean, taunting her.

"I promise, we're not
stalkers.
Or creepy.
Let me just help you get this on. I'll tie it around your neck and you arrange
the fabric so no one sees anything. Then I'll get the other ties around your
back." His voice was matter-of-fact.

Carrie bit her lip, trying not to let on what
it did to her to have this sexy stranger murmuring in her ear. What was wrong
with her? She never acted like this.
You
also never wear bikinis
, she berated herself. The lack of clothing was
clearly making her act like a ditz. Eric had moved close enough for her to see
the amber flecks in his hazel eyes.
Good
grief, he's handsome, especially close up
. She frowned. He was staring at
her hands.
The ones still covering her breasts.
No way
was she was going to drop them while he was looking at her like that. She
blushed harder.

"Eric? Eric! Dude, get a grip," Zeke
ordered.

Eric jerked his eyes away, smiling
apologetically at Carrie before fixing them on a point over her shoulder.
"I'm sorry. You're just really pretty."

Carrie gaped at him. Pretty? Was he joking? He
hadn't even looked at her face yet. She wondered if he was stupid.
A lot of men are
, she thought
uncharitably. He didn't move back at all, but at least he'd averted his eyes.
Whatever
.
She let
go of her boobs and grabbed at the swimsuit top, placing the scraps of fabric
over her body. She watched Eric closely the whole time.

"Okay, you can tie it now."

Eric's eyes darted down when she spoke, honing
in on Carrie's boobs then back up to his friend. Was he blushing?
Hmm.
He chewed on the inside of his cheek for a moment.
What was he thinking?

Zeke's hands on her neck snapped her out of her
reverie. He tied the strings of her top quickly, not once fumbling,
then
laid a palm on her nape. His fingers were warm.
Why do I feel like I can trust him?
Carrie shivered as she caught herself looking at Eric's amazing abs again.
Maybe she couldn't trust
herself,
sheesh
.
Eric
winked at her. She wanted to glare at him, but she was so flustered trying to
cover everything up she couldn't get control of her expression.
I must look like a complete nitwit.
Her
bikini wasn't cooperating and her hands were cold and clumsy.
This thing isn't meant to cover everything
up, you idiot
.

"Are you cold?" Eric asked. "You're
shivering."

Carrie nodded, not wanting to admit it was the
concerned expression on his face combined with Zeke's skillful fingers that was
making her tremble. Carrie enjoyed the occasional flirtation with a cute guy,
but this disaster with her bikini was entirely outside of her comfort zone. Two
gorgeous men paying complete attention to her at the same time?
Completely new situation.
She snorted quietly. Men liked her
straight dark hair and delicate skin.
Her bright blue eyes.
But let them get a whiff of her intelligence and quiet nature and poof! They
were gone. Carrie shrugged internally. Still. These two guys had her
reconsidering her recent vow to avoid men at all costs. They seemed nice. They
were helping her. And they were amazingly good-looking. Just because her last
boyfriend was a total ass didn't mean every man was an idiot, right?

Eric was looking at her face now, not her
boobs.
Amazing.
Unsettling.
Even
so, she knew they'd snap back to her chest in a moment.
Why the hell did I let Olivia talk me into a bikini? I
never
wear bikinis
. Something bad always
happened when she wore sexy or revealing clothing. A bra strap would break. Or
the slit in her skirt would rip. Today's lost top was a perfect example.